


Hold Your Breath and Wish

by honeyedlion



Category: Suzumiya Haruhi no Yuuutsu | The Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi
Genre: Boys Kissing, M/M, Multi, One-Sided Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-18
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-09 03:02:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeyedlion/pseuds/honeyedlion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haruhi doesn't believe them, and Kyon rails against the world. Koizumi comes not with a bang, but a whimper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hold Your Breath and Wish

**Author's Note:**

> Kinkmeme fill! Because that's what I do. Here: http://in-particulate.livejournal.com/4641.html?thread=155425#t155425
> 
> Beta'd at long last by CoralFlower! Now with less commas ;D

                "I'm not mad." Haruhi said and her voice was as sharp as a whip lash. Koizumi was managing to smile, and look like he wanted to throw up simultaneously. Kyon felt like he could do nothing but look at Haruhi, look into the deep brown of her eyes, and watch the glint of fury burn there.

                "I just don't believe you."

:

                Kyon is kissing Koizumi and shaking. This is not the first time this has happened. It is the first time it has happened where Koizumi is shaking as well. (The other time, the first time, he was still with shock.)

                Now Kyon has fine tremors running through his body, and everywhere they touch, the tremors clash and collide. Koizumi's mouth is hot and wet on his own, and how terrifying it is to be doing this in school. During the day.

                With Haruhi watching.

                She has her hands placed calmly on the desk under her, but Kyon can feel her anger like a palpable thing. He squeezes his eyes tightly closed, and tries to believe that makes her disappear. He isn’t her, though, so he also knows it won’t work.

                Koizumi slides a hand into his hair, and Kyon relaxes reflexively into the touch. No thought, only instinct. Koizumi is kissing him more calmly now, his mouth warm and familiar, safe. Kyon thinks briefly, like a movie on fast forward, of every other time they have done this. Of every other time they have kissed. Of Koizumi spread out on his bed, his face red and pressing into a pillow. The thought warms him, and his hand goes for Koizumi's tie.

               Koizumi chuckles, a low thing deep in his throat, and Kyon’s hands fumble a little as he tries to loosen the stiff fabric. Koizumi is sucking on his lower lip, one hand still tangled in his hair, and when Kyon finally pulls the tie free he wants to sigh with relief. His fingers feel numb and stupid with anxiety. He worries he is pressing too hard into Koizumi, but the other boys arms are wrapping around him, welcoming.

                He knows Koizumi is just as scared as him.

                He drops his head to Koizumi’s neck, sucking a small line of kisses into his skin. Koizumi smells just as he always does, a mix of detergent and lemon soap. Warm skin. Smells that Kyon has slept next to, and woken up beside a dozen times in the last few months, ever since Koizumi and he had decided to explore this. To explore them.

                Even now he can’t think that was the wrong decision.

                He feels Koizumi’s hands start on the buttons at the bottom of his shirt, and each brush of his hand makes Kyon tense and flinch. He can hear Haruhi shifting on the desk where she sits, watching them. Koizumi has the right idea though. They should hurry. Get this over with. Appease her, so they can leave. Even without any surety she won’t destroy them anyway, unknowingly in her anger. He despairs for a brief moment, and then Koizumi is pulling back, smiling at him so reassuringly.

It never reaches his eyes.

                The real reason he was in the club room after school, Koizumi’s tie on the floor, nervously half-hard in his school uniform was probably Mikuru’s fault. Not that he could blame her for being unable to keep a secret from Haruhi. Honestly, it was a miracle the glances Koizumi and him had exchanged went unnoticed for a whole month, by anyone, much less all of them.

Especially with Koizumi always sliding so close to him, a slow palm on his knee under the table, so he doesn’t startle. The dark secret pleasure of them, right under her nose.

Not so different from now.

                Kyon shivers, and palms Koizumi through his pants, only remembering where they are when the other boy jolts under him and pulls back. Their breath is coming hard already, and Koizumi’s eyes are wide and a shocky, a deep brown against the pale of his skin. He looks flushed and beautiful, and like everything Kyon has ever wanted, and can’t have.

                “Hurry up, then. I don’t have all day.” Haruhi’s voice makes Koizumi’s eyes jump to her, a crazy smile automatically rising to the front.

                Kyon can hear the waver in her voice, under all the bravado she’s projecting. It infuriates him. She doesn’t want this any more than they do.

                “You know, you said you weren’t going to talk.” Is all he says however, because Koizumi’s eyes are begging him silently. Begging him to let it go, to not provoke her. It fills him with a helpless rage. He wants to turn around, to shout, and to raise his fists. She is one tiny girl, and to have this power.

                The power to make or break him. Them.

                He leans back into where Koizumi is waiting and kisses him, hard and desperate, a little scared. Koizumi makes a needy noise under him, and bucks into the hand still rubbing against him. Kyon knows he’s acting, he’s soft under his uniform, but the movement of his body still makes him react. It’s still Koizumi, and Kyon is seventeen.

                He starts to unbutton Koizumi’s shirt, and then pauses.

                “How do you-“

                “I-“ Koizumi pauses, and angles his head away from Haruhi before letting his uncertainty show. “I don’t know. I don’t want-“

                He pauses, and takes a deep breath.

                “Ah, Haruhi-san. How far do we…?”

                Kyon doesn’t turn around to watch her think. In this moment he hates her, and he wonders what she’d do if she knew that. For all he knows she may genuinely still think this was all to get out of dating her. He doesn’t think so. This is spite.

                A spiteful god, making them dance in sacrifice.

                Instead he watches Koizumi’s face, the flickering lines of his smile, hanging on by a thread. The flutter of his lashes as he blinks, and the line of his throat as he swallows. His tension is visible, and painful to see.

                “Never mind.” Kyon says. He feels reckless and mad. “She can just tell us to stop when we go too far.”

                 “Kyon-“Koizumi says, but his protest is cut off with a breathy sigh as Kyon nuzzles back into the sweet line of collar. Kyon smiles against his mouth, hand working against the front of his pants. Koizumi’s definitely hard now, and he tries to pull away enough to see the zipper, but Koizumi pulls him back. His eyes are screwed shut, and Kyon realizes abruptly that Koizumi is using him like a shield, hiding from the weight of Haruhi’s gaze. The thought makes him ache.

                  It’s okay. He’ll do it one handed.

                 The zipper is painfully loud in the quiet room, and he can feel Koizumi start to stiffen up at the gasping sound Haruhi makes, so he moves faster, sliding Koizumi out of his boxers. His skin is hot, unnaturally hot, and it feels so strange to be doing this with his school jacket still on. Koizumi shudders at the first pull of his hand, and Kyon decides to be daring. To be convincing.

                 “Can you…?” He asks Koizumi, and his voice comes out gruff, and a little needy. Koizumi’s eyes are dark, his mouth pink and wet. Kyon doesn’t know if they’ve ever kissed for this long before, but if Haruhi doesn’t end the world, he wants to do it again. It makes Koizumi look disheveled in such an effortless way. Like he’s been woken from a beautiful dream.

                 He groans a little when Koizumi complies, tongue flicking wetly along each finger, and then long swipes across his palm. A teasing pause along the joint of his thumb, and then Kyon is wrapping his hand around Koizumi, their skin making a wet sound where it joins together.

                 Koizumi moans, cheeks flushing as he shakes, and Kyon keeps his back turned so Haruhi can see almost nothing. He wonders if she’s craning to look, or just sitting there, her cheeks flushed with fury. Koizumi is so hard it has to hurt, and he’s dripping enough that getting him to lick his palm was almost unnecessary. It’s a little overwhelming that he can do this to Koizumi, even under these circumstances.

                 Kyon can hear someone walking down the hallway, heavy footsteps, and he can hear the raspy breaths Koizumi keeps taking on each upstroke, as though he has to remember to breathe through the pleasure. The late evening sun is pouring through the window, and it makes each of Koizumi’s eyelashes look impossibly long and shadowed.

                 Haruhi is silent behind them, and it makes him nervous so he looks down, focusing on moving his hand steadily, thumb rubbing over the head every few moments, smearing the drops pearling at the tip.

                 “Ah.”

                 Kyon looks up from where he had been watching Koizumi’s flushed cock peek from between his fingers, wet and red, and watches his mouth part and close instead. His arm is slowing, and he speeds up at the realization. Normally they tease, Koizumi lapping softy at the head of his cock, so slow until he comes, body tightening, hands clenched in the sheets. Koizumi lets out a whimper like he’s been punched and Kyon tightens his grip and noses along his neck, feeling the beat of his heart. It’s racing.

                “Stop.”

                Kyon pauses for a moment, and Koizumi lets out a shaky breath, relief or remorse, Kyon can’t tell. He’s still hard, and so is Koizumi, twitching in his hand. He starts to turn, to see her face, and then stops. The footsteps are gone, and it is just them, poised in this moment, waiting for free fall.

                “Isn’t this what you wanted to see?” His voice sounds far away, and ugly, like a slap. Then he’s pressing Koizumi into the desk, fist moving in the same inexorable motion, steady like a wave. Koizumi is bucking under him, making hungry noises into his mouth, and Kyon can feel sweat beading along his hairline.

                Haruhi may destroy the world, but in this moment she is powerless.

                The desk is creaking with the force of their movement, and he can hear Haruhi getting up behind them, her indoor shoes hitting the ground with an almost squeaking sound.

                “Stop, Kyon!”

                “Kyon…” Koizumi breathes, like a prayer and comes, his head tipping back, a shudder that threatens to shake them both apart. His eyes are closed, and he’s flushed all the way up his neck from his chest, and Kyon can feel the heavy flush of satisfaction he always feels at having pleased him. He’s still milking him slowly, feeling the smoothness of the glide, when he hears the door start to open.

                Kyon turns around slowly. Haruhi is standing, one hand clenched into a fist at her side, the other on the door handle. Her eyes are huge and terrible with tears, her mouth a severe white line. She lets out a noise like a sob, and then runs from the room.

               He listens to her footsteps pattering away, before turning back to face Koizumi, who is trying to clean up the mess on the front of his pants, a rueful smile on his face.

               “Not exactly how we expected the world to end, huh?”

               “We’re pretty stupid.” Kyon says, a lump in his throat, and then leans in for a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> End the [world](http://honeyedlion.tumblr.com/). Or submit a request.


End file.
